Wedding Night
by BeneathTheUmbrella
Summary: The perfect day leads to the perfect night. A wedding night fic that's surprisingly NOT rated M. (Sorry, folks.)


_So this story came out of an interesting place. One, I remembered reading a sweet and funny article a few months back about couples' wedding nights, and how not many couples actually have sex. (It was either picking hundreds of bobby pins out of the bride's hair, or dragging a drunk spouse into bed, or dealing with family drama.) So that was the main inspiration. And two, I've been writing from Tracy's POV a lot lately, and wanted to get back into Ted's head for a while. (My next story is Tracy-centric, too.) I've missed his adorable, hyper-romantic attitude, and knew I had to write about what was going on in his head the day of his wedding. It's a sequel of sorts to my story, _One of These Things._ Enjoy!_

* * *

"Penny," Tracy said sternly but gently, looking into the screen of her smartphone. "You have to do as grandma, nonna and daideo say. You need to be a big girl and go to bed now."

In the arms of Tracy's mom, the five-year-old just shook her head, cheeks tear-stained. "I want you to sing me my goodnight song, mommy!" In the background, they could see Luke gently being rocked in the arms of Ted's mother. At least one of the Mosby children was content and asleep.

Ted sighed and exchanged a worried-slash-amused look with his wife. This was so _not_ the way he thought their wedding night would go.

He thought back to early that morning, as he dressed himself for his wedding, excitement coursing throughout his entire body. It was a crazy 48-hour process to prepare everything, get the paperwork in order, order flowers, for Tracy to pick her dress, and Ted his tuxedo. But it was a much longer ride—what felt like a lifetime waiting—to get to this moment.

Despite being a stripped-down version of what he had always envisioned his wedding to be like, it was still more and better than he could have ever dreamed. At its foundation, it really was just about him and her; the rest would've simply been fluff and filler.

It was a quaint ceremony, with only key friends and family in attendance—Ted's mother was even able to fly in from Ohio on such short notice—and his bride was simply beautiful. There were so few moments in life that literally took Ted's breath away; many of them always involved Tracy, others were the occasional architectural marvel he would get up-close with. But seeing Tracy in her wedding dress, the anticipation of exchanging their vows in her eyes, certainly did it.

And afterwards, they held a reception at MacLaren's; Lily had done a great job at planning the party. Carl didn't require too much arm-twisting to shut down the bar for a few hours that afternoon. Music was blasting from the jukebox, kids were running around the place, the drinks were flowing, and the food was simple but delicious. Who knew sharing a beer with his new bride at a pub would make for the most perfect and romantic day of his life?

When Ted wasn't dancing with Tracy or circulating the room with her as they mingled with their guests, he was simply standing back and observing her, as she chatted with Lily or Robin, or swayed to the music with Luke at her hip.

They had actually pulled it off, he thought in amazement. They were _married_. Something he yearned for for so long, that both he and Tracy had later taken for granted as their everyday lives took over, was finally here, and he wondered time and again why he had waited so long. So it was a blessing that it was their five-year-old daughter, of all people, who had unwittingly knocked some sense into Ted.

And now, he just wanted to move forward with their day, to jump straight into the next phase of their wedding. He craved Tracy terribly right then; not only in that animalistic way that goes hand-in-hand with one's wedding night, cliché as it may be. But also in a more pure, innocent way—he just wanted to _be_ with her.

Ted checked his watch and excused himself from where he was having a conversation with Tracy's brother Matthew, and walked over to where she was talking animatedly with Kelly.

"Hey, honey," he told her, slipping an arm around her waist. "You ready to get going?"

"Home?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Already? But the party's nowhere near done!"

He smiled. "I know. And everyone can stay and enjoy themselves. But," he said, taking her hand and holding it to his chest. "Ranjit is waiting outside, and our suitcases are in the trunk of the limo. Our flight leaves in three hours, so we need to get out of these clothes and get going."

"Our flight?" she exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. "Where on earth are we going?"

"Well," he began secretly, pulling her away from Kelly for some privacy. "I thought a three-night getaway to a certain French-speaking city would be conducive to a whole lot of romance."

Her eyes widened. "We're going to Paris?!"

Ted's face fell. "Oh. No. We're, um, going to Montreal," he explained. "Did you want Paris? I figured we only had three nights and Montreal's only an hour flight..." _Dammit. Rookie mistake, Mosby! When you have a choice, always go with Paris. _Always_!_

"Aw, baby," she cooed apologetically. "No. Montreal is _perfect_. It's the better option, anyway: there isn't an ocean separating us from our hotel room." She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

Ted breathed a sigh of relief. "Exactly," he agreed with a grin. "So... shall we?"

So they quickly rushed to the restrooms to change into more flight-friendly attire, and then giddily rushed around to say goodbye to everyone, thanking them for being a part of their special day. They however took forever kissing Penny and Luke goodbye, telling Mary, Charles and Virginia (who were all going to stay at the house to take care of the kids) where the emergency numbers were located, where they could find Penny's EpiPen, and that Luke would not go to sleep without his Billy the Bear.

They finally made it out of the bar and to the airport in record time but, as is the case with any traveller in a hurry to get to their destination, their flight was delayed by a couple of hours. (_It's just a_ _little bit of rain_, Ted thought giddily, as water poured heavily down onto the tarmac outside. _Good thing we have our umbrella_.) Ted and Tracy took it all in stride, slouched low on their seats as they waited at their gate, legs stretched out on the tops of their carry-on suitcases, Ted tenderly and dangerously stroking her thigh as she spoke. He couldn't wait to move forward with this next chapter of their life together. And for now, he just couldn't wait to get some alone time with her.

When they finally landed in Canada, Customs was an arduous process; by that point, they had already missed their dinner reservation at the hotel's restaurant. It was too late in the evening to partake in a romantic five-course meal, so they checked in, trudged to their room, and ordered room service instead.

They both plopped down onto the bed, letting out contended sighs, squishing the scattered rose petals underneath them that Ted had specifically requested for their first night, an ice bucket and bottle of champagne chilling on the bedside table. The room was perfect; his roommate, even more so.

He rolled over to face Tracy. Her eyes were shut, a smile playing on her lips. She was likely replaying the events of the day in her mind, he figured. It was something she did often at the end of the day, as they settled into bed, recalling both the good moments and the bad. The former, to ingrain in her mind and to cherish; the latter, a reminder that things would be better tomorrow.

"Today was a good day," he offered.

She finally opened her eyes and turned her head to face him. "A _great_ day," she corrected him, leaning forward to give him a languid kiss, the both of them unhurried as they made out on the bed.

He eventually pulled back to look at her again, eyes dilated, cheeks flushed. "Hi," he said softy.

"Hi," she echoed, giggling before kissing him again, more intense this time. "Ready to perform your husbandly duties?" she murmured against his lips, her fingers slowly trailing from his shoulders down to his hips.

Ted groaned pleasurably, ready to saucily comment on _her_ wifely duties. But then he groaned again, in frustration this time, as Tracy's phone began to ring from her purse.

"Let it go to voicemail," he tried to convince her as she pulled away from his arms and crawled out of bed. But Tracy was the more rational one of the two, as always, when she mentioned it could have something to do with the kids. Despite wanting a few days to simply be husband-and-wife, to leave their daddy-and-mommy roles behind in Westchester, he knew wherever they were, those parental responsibilities and worries would never go away.

And now here they were, trying to soothe their daughter as she cried out for her nightly ritual. Not quite an emergency, they had to admit, but they both knew how Penny could get. They certainly didn't envy their parents right there and then.

"Sweetie, for the next few nights, nonna will sing to you," Tracy said in a hyper-positive voice, hoping her tone would convince Penny. "Isn't that _exciting_?"

The little girl just shook her head. "No: I need _you _to sing,mommy!" she said, sobbing. "And with the kalaylay!"

"Sweetie, mommy doesn't have the ukelele," Tracy explained. "Maybe I can sing over the phone while nonna plays on the piano?"

Penny stopped sobbing long enough to give her mother her best you've-got-to-be-kidding face. "No!" she cried.

"Penny," Ted butted in with his stern "dad" voice, the one that he hated using but usually had to pull out of his arsenal to get things moving along. (It _was_ his wedding night, after all!) "Either mommy sings it without the ukelele, or she doesn't sing it at all. You tell us what you'd prefer."

The little girl sighed. The "two choices" hack was an easy way for Ted and Tracy to gain control over a situation, but still make Penny feel as if she gets to have the final say. So as she pondered Ted's words, she finally said with a sigh: "Ok, fine. No kalaylay."

And so Tracy's mom sat at the piano in their living room with Penny on her lap, and Tracy sang the same song she performed every night on the edge of Penny's bed. Could Ted ever grow tired of hearing it? He didn't think he ever would. He shut his own eyes as she crooned; he definitely understood why it was such a soothing song to the kids. He understood from the moment he first heard her honey-sweet singing voice in Farhampton 12 years earlier.

When she was done, Penny seemed to be in better spirits, leaning her head on Mary's chest, smiling sleepily into the phone.

"You'll be a good girl and go to bed now?" Tracy asked softly.

Penny simply nodded.

"Good," Ted added proudly. "Your mom and I will be home in a few days. For now, behave for your grandparents and take care of Luke, ok?"

"Yes, daddy," she murmured sleepily.

"You're such a big, brave girl," Tracy said encouragingly. "We'll talk to you tomorrow sweetheart. Goodnight."

"G'night, mommy. G'night daddy," she said with a yawn, a little fist rubbing at her eye. "I love you."

"Love you, too," they said in unison. Tracy quickly turned off her phone, back to the screensaver image of the kids, and looked over at Ted. "So..."

He smiled. "So..."

"Successful parenting from across the border, right?!" Tracy announced, reaching a hand up to high-five Ted. "We rock!"

He high-fived her back, laughing. "We sure do," he said, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers. "Crap, I miss them already."

Tracy chuckled and then let out a yawn. "Honey, would I be a horrible new bride if I said I was too tired for sex?" she asked sheepishly. "I know it's our wedding night—"

Ted smiled. "No, baby. It has been a long, crazy day," he acknowledged. "I'm a bit exhausted, too, don't worry too much about it. Wanna just eat and save it for tomorrow?"

And so they waited for their food to arrive, slipping on their PJs and half-watching a French dubbed episode of _Law &amp; Order_ on TV. And as they lazily but hungrily devoured their burgers and fries in bed, oh-so-classily swigging down some Moët &amp; Chandon straight from the bottle, Ted gazed over at Tracy.

He chuckled at the sweet potato fry hanging from her lips, the dot of ketchup at the corner of her mouth. Dammit, he loved her so much. As much as the day he met her; the memorable day he fell for her, hard and fast. And, as Ted had slowly gotten to know her, he continued to fall for her. How could he _not_?

But Ted (and it often surprised him) continued to fall for her, more and more every single day. As they grew older, as kids entered the picture, as they learned how to live together, day in and day out... It was never easy, and even when moments weren't rosy or perfect, his love for her still grew stronger and stronger.

Maybe tonight wasn't the way he had planned for his wedding night to go. But as he thought further, his life didn't go as planned either. And yet he still managed to get his dream girl in the end. So there wasn't going be sex on their wedding night didn't; it was probably too cliché anyway. There was always tomorrow night; and the many nights and days that would follow.

For now, he thought, accepting the bottle of champagne from her hand, their night was still pretty damn perfect.

_FIN_


End file.
